The Worst Case Scenario
by lcf328
Summary: "...she may have suffered hypoxic brain injury...decreased oxygen delivery can result in brain damage..." Set during NSF Thurmont. JD one-shot.


**Shocker…no, the characters don't belong to me…**

**Many thanks to HarmonyLover, for her help beta reading this story!**

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><p>Brain damage.<p>

Josh stared in anguish at Donna's limp body on the hospital bed. Those two words were all he'd been able to think about since the doctor had uttered them. His horror on hearing that possible diagnosis had rivaled what he'd felt when his pager had gone off with the emergency code, and a few seconds later CJ had confirmed his worst fears by telling him about the attack on the CoDel.

What did that mean, brain damage? Did it mean the encyclopedias' worth of trivia she was able to carry around in her head might be reduced by, oh, five percent or so? Or did it mean…

Josh was trying hard not to contemplate worst-case scenarios, but those were the only scenarios that ever seemed to happen, at least to him and his loved ones. His grandfather had been through the Holocaust. His sister had died trying to make him popcorn. His dad had seemed to be winning his battle against cancer only to be felled by a pulmonary embolism. The same thing that had put Donna in this medical crisis.

No. Josh felt tears start to form, and he pressed his hand against his eyes. It wasn't a pulmonary embolism that had done this to Donna. She was in that bed because some terrorists armed with explosives had planted a roadside bomb to blow up a caravan of American SUVs. And she'd been in that SUV in the first place because of Josh. Because he hadn't been able to get her on the Brussels trip and she'd hinted she was unhappy with her job. Because he'd been so afraid of her leaving him that he'd sent her into a war zone without a second thought in order to keep her happy. He'd done this to her. A self-loathing as intense as any he'd ever known welled up inside him.

He glanced around the room, empty now except for Donna and him. Colin had mercifully left, saying something about going down to the cafeteria. How could the man think about food at a time like this? How could he not even care about what the doctor had told them? Oh, he was obviously concerned, but the fact that he wasn't a broken mess like Josh indicated that, international trip or not, Donna wasn't actually all that important to him. Frankly, he'd seemed to be acting a little strange, even for him, since he'd heard the news. Was he regretting having come, concerned about what kind of implied commitment he'd made to this woman he couldn't have known for more than a couple days, who now might have long-term cognitive impairments? Why _had_ Colin come to Germany, anyway? Was he really that taken by Donna, or was it something else? He was a photojournalist. Maybe he'd figured being here in the hospital would make for a great addition to his reporting. The thought made Josh want to punch him – not the first time that day he'd had to fight off that impulse.

_Unconsummated love kept at arm's length by puritanical American workplace ethics?_ Josh seethed as he remembered Colin's smug, needling words. The blathering idiot knew nothing about him or Donna or their relationship; who the hell was he to be offering up opinions? And whatever truth there might be to…but so what if he did have feelings for Donna? What was he supposed to do about it, anyway? Stupid him – he'd always thought that not trying to get your young, blond assistant into bed was just how a decent guy behaved in the civilized world. Thank goodness he'd had Colin to set him straight and explain that he was just being "puritanical." Josh had been called a lot of things in his life, but "puritanical" didn't usually make the list.

He felt a fresh wave of nausea as he remembered his later conversation with Colin, in the hallway after the doctor had dropped the bombshell of possible brain damage. Josh had been pacing the hall while Colin had reclined on a bench, yammering on in his annoying brogue about something Josh had long ago stopped paying attention to. But at some point, Colin must have caught one of Josh's contemptuous glances, because he'd paused in the midst of whatever he'd been rambling about. "What?"

"Nothing," Josh had muttered, sinking back into the bench on the other side of the hallway.

"I'm sure she's going to be fine."

"That's comforting. Thanks."

"Brain damage, though. Scary stuff. Hate to have that happen to me. Especially in your country, you know?"

"What the hell are you-"

"What your Congress did to that poor Terri Schiavo woman…"

Josh had felt his stomach hit the floor at those words. He buried his face in his hands.

"Not that I'm suggesting Donna-"

"Would you just stop talking for like five seconds?" Josh exploded, his nerves at the breaking point.

Brain damage. Terri Schiavo. Those words had swirled in Josh's brain, as they still did now. What if the worst _did_ happen? Against his will, he found himself imagining it: Donna spending the rest of her life in a hospital bed, unable to walk, eat, speak, or as far as anyone could tell, comprehend. Her snarky banter, her compassion, her intelligence as well as all the amusing missteps that never failed to endear her to Josh, gone forever.

Her parents would eventually decide the only humane thing to do would be to remove life support. And yes, of course the Republicans would turn it into a thing. There was no question – a staffer in the Bartlet White House? Injured in a high-profile terrorist attack? No way they'd give up the chance to make hay out of that, throwing a bone to the religious right with no regard for the actual human beings involved. Their lawyers would figure out a way to challenge the removal of the feeding tube, and Donna's tragedy would be turned into a media circus. And which side would Josh come down on? During the Schiavo fiasco, it had been so clear to him. The woman was already gone. Keeping her body alive was benefiting no one; who would want to "live" like that? But if it were Donna…Josh squeezed his eyes shut. The thought of saying, yeah, you should go ahead and let her starve to death, of giving up all hope that maybe the doctors were wrong and she was still in there somewhere, repulsed him. He didn't know if he'd be physically capable of doing it. Not that it would matter what he thought. Legally, he was her boss and nothing more, with no rights in these situations. At the moment, he didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse.

He let out a long, shuddering breath, trying to block out those thoughts. It wasn't going to come to that. It couldn't. He gazed at Donna. She looked so fragile now, but she wasn't. She was a survivor. Colin had been right (even a stopped clock and all that); Donna would come though this. She had to; there was simply no other option.

He rested his head against his hand, numb and exhausted. He didn't know how long he'd sat like that, consumed by nightmare scenarios as he listened to the background noises of the hospital and the television anchor on CNN, before he heard a voice so wonderful and welcome that at first he hadn't dared to believe his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

"Josh?"


End file.
